Hidden 1 mo ago Post by Evil Ghost Note
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Evil Ghost Note I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU

Member Seen 4 days ago


Interactions: Ella @FernStone, Valor @Drag, & Nora/Tyler @NoriWasHere
The Warehouse Party Massacre.




Kari doesn’t answer immediately.

She simply can’t.

Everything around her is too loud, too fast, overwhelming, and somehow also delayed, as if her brain is a half-second behind everything that matters. Ella’s voice merges together, words twisting and slipping away before Kari can catch them fully. Nora’s grip is firm and real, yet feels distant, like she’s touching something through glass. They’re speaking to her. Waiting for her to respond. Her chest tightens. She knows she’s supposed to have the answer. But she just—her thoughts get caught. 'Observer.' That word doesn’t help; it only adds pressure. Ella is hurt, with a head injury, blood loss, and at least a concussion. She’s moving, but unsteady. Nora is shaking, overwhelmed, still able to function but barely. Lynn is talking strategy; calm, detached, with too much input and too many variables, at a rapid pace. Kari’s breathing becomes irregular and strained.

"...Stop talking just—just—"

Her voice falters halfway through. She quickly closes her eyes, hoping to somehow align her thoughts. But it doesn’t happen. Something shifts, and her eyes snap open. The monster is no longer fixated on them; it has already moved. Her gaze follows it—not smoothly, but with jagged, frame-skipping corrections, as if she’s struggling to keep up. It passes through its previous position and appears where it is now, causing Kari a moment of nausea as she tries to make sense of it. Then realization hits. It’s not about them anymore. It’s about Valor. Kari’s head jerks toward the knight just as he steps forward, loud and purposeful, drawing the creature’s focus like a flare. A small, temporary, but real window opens. Her breath catches. There. That’s—Her body moves instinctively, before she even finishes the thought.

"It’s not on us-" she blurts, voice sharp, urgent, almost panicked. “It’s focused on him-it’s-just_"

Kari grips Ella by the arm with more force than intended, attempting to lift her upright. The movement is awkward and unsteady—Ella’s weight shifts unpredictably, and her body fails to stabilize, causing Kari to nearly lose her hold.

"We’re leaving. Now. Come on-"

Her eyes shift back to the creature—no, not just the creature, but through it, following its movements to anticipate what it will do next. She can't quite predict everything yet, but she has enough understanding. Currently, it’s not paying attention to them, and that's the only thing that matters.

“Nora, help me. Get her up. This might be our only chance..”

Her voice has grown thinner and frayed, still attempting to sound in control but failing. Because deep down she knows this isn’t a plan; it’s a window that’s already closing.


The Creature
Interactions: Valor (@Drag), & Lexi (@FernStone)
The Warehouse Party.




The incoming debris initially seemed harmless, scattered, and inconsistent. The creature didn’t fully turn to face it; parts of its body responded independently. When chunks of concrete and metal struck, the surface shifted slightly to lessen the impact, softening in some areas and hardening in others.

As similar debris continued to strike, the creature adapted, forming ridges on its surface, not armor, but angled structures. Subsequent impacts deflected, redirected into tissue, or lost force, rendering them insignificant. It no longer focused on Lexi; her movements were processed, unstable, and her attacks broad and inefficient.

The real threat was Valor.

The creature’s body responded to him, shifting not directly towards him but in reaction to what he symbolized. Inside, the groove from the spear flexed, and tendrils twitched—not from damage, but recognition, as the weapon’s pattern became familiar. Bones began to form again, not as a cage but as segmented structures beneath the surface, aligned with probable entry points, meant to guide rather than stop the weapon. The interior channel thickened; some areas were intentionally soft, others hardened into dense nodes slightly offset from previous strikes, preparing for the next attack.

The white fire wasn’t remembered as pain, but as behavior; the creature changed its composition where the fire burned most effectively, forming resistant patches amidst softer tissue, which could shift to carry the burn elsewhere. It wasn’t trying to stop the fire but move it. The creature subtly adjusted its balance, lowering its center by compressing its mass and widening its internal channel, preparing itself.

It paused before attacking, making precise, small adjustments—limbs shifting, movement slowing, reducing waste. It was no longer reacting impulsively; it was focusing, filtering. Valor’s weapons ignited again—this was the constant, what truly mattered. The creature remained still, not out of hesitation, but because it had completed its preparation.

When the weapon next entered, it wouldn’t be leaving. It would be ready, controlling what comes next.


???
Interactions: None.
???




The blade was already in his hand when the opening appeared.

It came suddenly, without warning. One moment, there was nothing; then, a clean break in space formed like a doorway. He hesitated briefly, not out of doubt but to check. Too soon. The thought passed silently; he knew it would align in time. He adjusted his grip once and smoothly slid the katana into its sheath.

Then the opening sealed immediately behind him, leaving no sound or trace. The air beyond felt strange, heavy but familiar, as if something large had already occurred nearby, leaving a residual pressure. He moved forward steadily, confidently, navigating turns instinctively as if he knew the layout.

The sounds from inside echoed—metal breaking, concrete shifting, impacts replaying. Continuing, he slightly adjusted his direction, confirming his sheath was secure. A faint, out-of-place sensation flickered at the edge of his perception but vanished quickly. Ignoring it, he approached the damaged building, its interior exposed through broken sections.

Whatever was happening inside had not finished.

And that was the only condition that mattered.
Hidden 26 days ago Post by FernStone
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FernStone One Again Addicted to Pepsi Max

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago



Interactions: Kari @Evil Ghost Note, Nora @NoriWasHere
Warehouse


Ella was cooperative with Kari, but it wasn’t very helpful when she was so unsteady on her feet. She stumbled, leaning heavily on Kari while her other hand shot out to use the wall to stop herself from falling properly and hitting her head again. At least there was still a wall there… Just not a whole wall. Where had that massive gap come from?

"Who is him?" She asked, words a bit garbled. She saw the flaming weapons in the corner of her eye. Was it the same person who said some weird stuff that was the total opposite of everything she believed in? Or was there another stranger in the room just there to act judgmental?

She couldn’t really keep up. Kari said they were leaving. That was what was important. Concentrate on her friends!

She suddenly grasped Nora’s arm, using her grip on both her friends to pull herself upright. Her legs ached and threatened to buckle under her own weight, but she fought through it, leaning on Kari and Nora for support.

"Leaving, I’m up… I’m good, I can walk, just need the support." She said, managing a smile that was meant to be comforting but it all it came across as was pained. Her whole body protested her movement, her probably broken ribs stabbing sharply into already bruising skin. Now upright, she felt much dizzier, the pink drink she’d had not long ago threatening to come back up.

But she could fight through it. She couldn’t fall down yet… Not until they were safe. It was just a little bit of pain!

It was a testament to her mental fortitude that she was able to force herself to stand, even trying to move them towards the big hole in the wall, albeit weakly.

"I won’t fall again till we’re out."



Warehouse -> Forest


Tuyen crouched only a few steps away from the shattered window. She knew it wasn’t safe here, but she couldn’t make herself move further. Maybe it was just she didn’t care. She’d used up the tiny amount of survival instinct she had, burning it out until only cold depression was left.

The Shadow slunk around her, not even feeling the need to torment her further. She was already doing a good enough job at tormenting herself. It was all her fault that Vicky had died. If she hadn’t left her alone, then she’d still be here. Tuyen would’ve been able to get her out of the place… Or at least she would’ve been the one to die protecting her. But she’d abandoned her, and now she was dead.

Even the boom of a wall being destroyed didn’t snap her out of it. It felt like she was underwater, everything around her muffled. Her mind spiralled, her cold hands clutching her head as she curled into herself. Tears dripped down her face, slowly plopping onto her knees. Harsh, sharp breaths ripped through her chest, getting faster and faster.

Someone grabbed her shoulder, and shook her. “Hey, hey! Get up! We gotta run further–”

Tuyen flinched back like she’d be burnt, finally dragging herself back to the present. She looked up, breath catching in her throat as the person- if they could be called that- leaned closer to her. Their face was blurred and sinister, like they’d stolen a human’s but hadn’t put it on right. Sharp teeth grinned down at her, and clawed hands reached for her.

She didn’t make a sound, backing away in panic and looking sharply to the side in the hope there were other people still around.

There weren’t. Just more of these things wearing human flesh, and shadows pretending to be humans. They were all disjointed, like they didn’t belong in this world. Their glowing eyes and unnatural smiles turned on Tuyen.

”Why aren’t you running?” The ‘person’ asked, reaching for her shoulder.
”It's more fun that way.”

Tuyen pushed their hand away, scrambling back and managing to get to her feet. She turned and ran without any more hesitation. She had to get out of here. She had to get home. It wasn’t even about surviving she just didn’t want to- she couldn’t stay around those things. She wanted it to be quick.

She pushed into the dark forest, but didn’t go deep into it. Instead she kept the road in view as she ran- close enough she could follow it, but not so close that she could be seen from it. Laughter followed her, and her lungs burned.

Even as she got further away, the screams didn’t stop.

She didn’t stop either. She wouldn’t until she was home. Until she was alone.

She’d never be alone again.
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Hidden 25 days ago Post by Atrophy
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Atrophy Meddlesome Kid

Member Seen 0-24 hrs ago



Interactions: Tyler@NoriWasHere
Warehouse




Relief, Vicky imagined, was what she should’ve felt when Lexi’s head wasn’t popped from her shoulders by the monster. All she felt was horror. This wasn’t just more mean girl shit. Perhaps there was a part of Vicky that felt the world would be better off without another dumb bitch like Lexi, and perhaps that part of Vicky was damn near all of her, but this really stopped being about Lexi the moment Vicky witnessed Tyler hurl that piece of concrete. Earlier, Vicky had drunkenly bragged to Tuyen about being omniscient, and while that wasn’t the case, Vicky was observant—even while drunk. So when that piece of concrete swapped into a speaker, it was less like the first domino in a chain falling and more like the entire domino run had been flattened by a sonic boom all at once.

“Oh, fuck! cried Vicky in realization at the same time Tyler said, “We can fucking RUN.”

She had been saved by Tyler Fox, swapped like that speaker, and now she was being dragged to safety by Tyler Fox. He was never going to let Vicky live this down. This was horrible, horrible, horrible! She would rather die than be saved by Mister This Fucking Guy. Yet instead of letting go of his hand, rushing back into the warehouse, and prostrating herself down before the monster to put her out of her misery, Vicky held on. She was simply too important of a person to throw her life away, and honestly, there was a fear that if she gave herself over to the monster’s clutches then the rest of the school would follow as if she had jumped from a bridge. She simply couldn’t bear to be blamed for the death of an entire class, like, it wasn’t her fault that she was a trendsetter!

Plus, okay, she didn’t actually want to die, and even if she did, what had happened to Chef and the others looked so painful. Hard pass. Besides, there had to be a way she could turn this around and make Tyler look like a total chump here instead it was just kind of hard to think right now because she was panicking and it was mostly about the monster crashing the party but also a little bit about Tyler and, seriously, thought Vicky as her feet dragged on the ground and made Tyler put in all the effort on their escape, this little fucker was a quarterback and this was really the fastest he could run? Come on!

It was only when they made it to the tree line that Vicky released her death grip on Tyler and dropped to her hands and knees. For a split second her mind cleared itself of all her worries and insecurities and the tears that dropped to the ground were not from fear nor anger nor sorrow but of gratitude, a rare moment of peace where Vicky was simply happy to be alive instead of constantly worrying about how her life could be better. Then that hum returned to her head, the endless, electric buzz of an overloaded circuit that at any second could blow, and she remembered, even as her body still shook in fear, that the Game was still on, she had to play it, and she must win.

When she launched herself at Tyler, wrapped her arms around him, and gave him a tight hug it was a play, a stalling tactic. Likewise, it was just a move to make Tyler lower his guard when she cried, “I. Wan. Na. Go. Home!” And as she broke down into a complete, incoherent blubbering mess as she smeared her face into his chest and continued to wail, it was totally part of an absolute brilliant ploy to inevitably own Tyler and make him her little bitch. Otherwise, then it would just mean that Vicky was some boyfriendless loser whose only “real” friend had confidently abandoned her to her doom the second things got spooky and therefore forced her to be forever grateful to the biggest piece of shit she knew.

Yeah, not happening.

So as a threat, Vicky hugged Tyler harder: she'd drag him under if he tried burying her. Until then, hurry up and get her the fuck out of here.
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Hidden 18 days ago 18 days ago Post by Evil Ghost Note
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Evil Ghost Note I DON'T WANT YOUR FRIEND, GIRL, I WANTED YOU

Member Seen 4 days ago


The Creature
Interactions: Everyone I guess.
The Warehouse Party.




Valor advanced first, the warehouse floor cracking beneath its weight as it surged forward, flames trailing from its weapons through the dust in the air. Heat emanated from the sword and axe, briefly illuminating the debris-stained walls with flashes of orange as the knight closed in with deliberate power. The creature didn’t retreat; instead, its body tensed. Its torso’s groove slightly flexed open as internal parts shifted beneath the surface, dense nodes rotating into impact paths while softer tissue receded deeper into its mass. It lowered its stance further, limbs spreading minimally to brace against the incoming force. Weapon trajectories had already been anticipated. Valor’s right side dipped first, following established preference patterns for the spear. The sword’s angle shifted, but its goal remained the same: penetration followed by sustained heat damage. Some variance existed, but within expected ranges. The creature was prepared to endure the strike.

Then, something entered the room.

Not force but presence.

The air exploded violently, distorting as if reality itself had briefly slipped out of focus. Thin strands of orange light shot through the warehouse in tangled fibers, spreading outward like fractures in glass. The wave moved too fast to track; it simply arrived. Debris rattled, dust lifted, and temperature shifted abruptly. Then, people began falling. Anyone without an Emotional Field dropped instantly, bodies limp before they fully understood what happened. Some bounced on impact, others folded in place as if their strings had been cut.

The Paranormals stayed conscious but just barely. The pressure hit them like deep water collapsing inward. Not exactly pain, but something heavier was pressing against their minds’ edges. Their Emotional Fields flared under the strain as the wave assaulted them. Breathing grew labored, thoughts blurred, and instinctive warnings overtook logic. Not because of the creature, but because of something else. Something worse. Something so powerful its mere presence distorted the room.

The creature responded immediately—not out of fear, but recognition. Its body convulsed as internal structures shifted abruptly. Ridges flattened, bone dissolved into softer matter, and its defensive channels collapsed as it reorganized away from combat readiness. The fight no longer mattered. The orange strands moved differently across its flesh, destabilizing parts of its adaptable tissue and causing it to reform out of sequence. Movements that were once precise and calculated suddenly lost efficiency.

Without hesitation, the creature moved, ignoring Valor entirely, not to attack but to escape. Its body compressed sharply and then exploded outward, rushing across the warehouse at terrifying speed. Concrete shattered beneath its limbs, steel supports bent and snapped as it tore through the collapsing structure outside. The building groaned, supports collapsing as debris was forced aside, but it kept moving, undeterred, until it reached the edge of the place from which it emerged.

The rupture June created.

Beyond the shattered warehouse walls, the rupture swirled violently in space, never forming a stable doorway—just a chaotic red mass twisting inward, like reality folding into a wound that refuses to close. Flickers of-strangely-Cornell appeared within it in broken flashes: distorted corridors, collapsing structures, impossible angles that appeared and vanished too quickly to comprehend. Shapes moved within the distortion, never fully becoming clear. Beneath all this, the voices persisted: screaming, whispering, layered so densely they ceased sounding human.

The creature entered. For a moment, its flesh lost cohesion—stretched and blurred as the seam simultaneously rejected and accepted it. Parts appeared ahead of others as if caught between states. Then, the distortion swallowed it whole. The rupture trembled violently after the creature’s passage. The warped glimpse of Cornell flickered once or twice before collapsing inward, as if reality itself sought to close the wound.

The air was deathly quiet in the warehouse.

???
Interactions: None.
???




The silence that followed was unnatural; it bore an intense pressure, as if the warehouse had been emptied, leaving only the residual moment. The last traces of orange distortion lingered as faint afterimages across surfaces before fading. Nothing moved where it had fallen. Those still aware of their surroundings didn’t speak, and no one acknowledged what had just occurred.

A blade clicked softly as it slid into its sheath, a small but definitive sound in the hollow space. The figure stayed still a moment longer, head slightly inclined as if listening beyond the ruins. Whatever had entered had already retreated, leaving only consequences. Without urgency or ceremony, he began to move.

He crossed the broken floor with calm precision, stepping over collapsed beams and fractured concrete, ignoring the scattered individuals. His gaze was fixed beyond them, past the torn edge of the warehouse where reality had been torn open. The outside rupture pulsed with instability, less a doorway and more an unresolved flaw in existence. Red-black currents swirling, refusing to settle, revealing fleeting fragments of worlds that did not belong to any single realm. Its edges hinted at familiarity, but in a way that defied immediate understanding.

He stopped several meters away. The pause felt deliberate. "... Oh, this isn't good,” he said quietly, not with surprise, but with recognition—like confirming something long known rather than discovering anew. After a moment, he added, "... She'll be here soon.”

This wasn’t a prediction, it was a certainty. His hand moved to the hilt of his blade, but did not draw it; instead, he acknowledged its presence. The air around the katana subtly tightened, as if space itself recognized his intent. With controlled precision, he partially unsheathed the blade—not to strike, but to cut. The act targeted continuity itself, not matter. The air split with a clean, silent cut, forming a narrow seam beside him—structured absence shaped into a passage.

He hesitated, watching the rupture as if confirming its behavior once more. Then he stepped into the seam and vanished.
Hidden 17 days ago Post by NoriWasHere
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NoriWasHere

Member Seen 1 day ago





Current day
Interactions: Tommy, Vicky, Corey, Dead Guy
Outfit: Normal



Tyler was disgusted.

It wasn’t the fact that Vicky was still holding his hand like some pathetic kid who needed to be comforted. Why else would that freak still be doing this? It wasn’t like there was a way for Vicky to spin this to make herself look good. She was covered in blood, blood, gallons of the stuff. If anyone got a photo of her, they would have all the fucking ammunition they needed to shut her down in every last circle she dreamed of being the queen bee of. Not just because red was totally not her color or anything like that. Still, they would need to survive the night to bring that ammunition to bear. While she was doing a lot of the work to drag them from the raging death cult fuckery behind them, let’s be honest, it is the least she could do. Tyler may be the actual impressive physical specimen between the two of them, but he could not risk damaging the product to save someone as delicate and needy as Vicky. There was nothing else to be read from him following behind Vicky and letting her take charge. He was just the star athlete, letting the lemming lead the way through the potential danger outside the factory.

Finally.

Tyler sighed in relief as it finally happened. His eyes rested on the treeline that the duo had finally reached. Was it the safety that the treeline offered that caused him to feel at ease? Was it the thought that once he got home, he had access to his family's gun safe, and he wondered how bulletproof that monster was? Or was it because it meant that the other losers who refused to flee would learn their lesson the hard way? No. It was because Vicky finally released her death grip on his hand. That freak would begin to think too far into what it meant when a guy and a girl held hands for more than five seconds, if that carried on too much longer, and Tyler did not want to be the asshole. That was a lie. He really wanted to crush that hope and dream. Of course, that dittzy hair for brains would want to leech off his success, and this was her attempt to do so. What a..

“I. Wan. Na. Go. Home!”

Fuck. Tyler looked down as she turned into a crying teenager, completely detached from the cool, collected, and in control visage she adopted at all times. She truly looked even more pathetic than she did every time her fuck ass boyfriend tried to do anything cute or lovey dovey. Couldn’t she fucking take the hint that Chet loved her? Tyler’s eyebrows shot up just a hair. It finally made sense. All of this, the handholding, her face in his chest, and even the sobbing, was because she knew that her man loved her, and was still dealing with the fact that he had been brutally murdered in front of her. This was not her confessing any sort of actual feelings for him, but rather asking the only man who had the stomach to have been around her since they were kids for help. Did this make them friends? Tyler hopped not. All he wanted to do right in this moment was sneak his phone out, take several photos and maybe a video, toss something, and teleport away so she could wallow in her pity. Yet this was not the time nor the place anymore. If Tyler wanted to be the hero that he knew he was, and that his strange ancestor ghost expected him to be, he needed to step up to the plate and lead by example.

“Okay,” Tyler paused as he gently placed a hand on each of Vicky’s shoulders, and with a gentle push, got her off his chest. He offered the sniffling, sniveling, and straight-up crying girl a warm smile. “Okay,” Tyler leaned down and picked up two rocks with his one hand and showed them to Vicky, expecting her to at least have the bare minimum brain processing power to understand what his intent was. But just in case. “Let’s go home. I will toss these ahead and swap our positions with them,” Tyler paused as he threw the stones and turned off all senses. He quickly found the position of the two stones and locked on with his magic, and then locked on to himself. Before he could do the same for Vicky, he swapped and was suddenly several feet in the air and traveling at a high speed towards a fleeing guy.

WHAT THE FU-,” Tyler’s voice cut out as he collided with the man, tumbling with him through the forest before coming to a rest. Tyler lay where he fell for just a second before he pushed himself off the ground, straddling the person beneath him as he tried to see who he had fallen on. A scowl crossed his face as his hands balled into fists, and proverbial steam exited his nose.

“You.”
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Hidden 6 days ago 6 days ago Post by NoriWasHere
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NoriWasHere

Member Seen 1 day ago






Interactions: Lynn & Daniel
Outside Warehouse - Woods



Lynn knew she needed out. While the monster was busy fighting what Party Boy turned into, Lynn watched as the jock and what she assumed was his girlfriend left together, a few others got out, and the girl squad left as well. But Daniel was still in this warehouse; he had lost every bout with the devil, and he needed to get shaken from that trance he was in. Lynn tossed a panicked eye back at the monster and saw that it, too, had begun to panic. Someone, maybe something else, had arrived, and whatever or whomever it was had scared the beast into admitting defeat before the first blow was traded. Lynn’s breath was caught in her chest as she watched it scamper away like a weak and pathetic little monster. That scared the shit out of her. If that monster, that creature that caused all this death and destruction, was scared, Lynn paused the thought as her eyes shifted to the new arrival, then how powerful was this thing? It did not stick around to display what that power was. Her chest let loose the breath, and she gasped. She could not tell why, but for some reason, the air around the warehouse had lost a lot of weight to it, even as the warehouse itself was a scene of horror with blood, viscera, and damaged concrete strewn about.

Valor had watched the monster prepare itself, understood how it fought and the way it divided punishment into some evolutionary defense. The knight felt no concern of this understanding, it would simply resolve to administer punishment greater than the beast could bear.

But no such resolution came. Valor’s weapons struck at nothing as the creature burst into gore and fled using its base elements. The tear in reality, where the beast had spawned from, showed glimpses of the town in its maw, but Valor paid it no heed. More concerned with finding and estimating whatever had caused the creature to make such a retreat. It found nothing, the new presence leaving as soon as it had arrived and the dimensional wound closing over, leaving behind an empty building full of dead things. The knight weighed these events in its impassive face, far from ideal.

HM. Valor grunted, mild annoyance in its normally indifferent reverberation. Like the other paranormal guests of the night, Valor suddenly relinquished control and seemed to disappear - albeit remaining closer than the rest of the evening’s uninvited guests. Daniel Mars returned to the world, collapsing forward and smacking his face on the ground, eyes closed and wheezing for air, like a drowning victim who’d been unexpectedly fired out the sea and back onto land.

Lynn quickly shot her eyes back towards Daniel and saw that whatever had possessed him had let the boy go. He was unconscious, on the ground, but he was breathing, and he was distinctly himself. Lynn smirked. A small blessing. She had only just made him an acquaintance; she could very well not lose him before she learned more about this town and the school. *thud* Lynn’s head lurched downward as a small piece of concrete fell from above and hit her on the crown of her head. It was not very big, nor did it hurt much, but it still pulled her attention upward, revealing the damage the fight between Daniel and the Monster wrought on the building in this part of the warehouse. She was no engineer, nor did she know what exactly to look for to determine if a roof was about to fall, but she did know that seeing the stars through the roof, spiderweb cracks, and pieces and parts falling at a steady rate were not good signs. She looked towards Daniel, and back to the ceiling, and back to Daniel. He was in danger. Lynn’s eyes went wide as she gasped. Daniel was in danger, and so was she.

The next thing Lynn knew, she was moving. Her legs had gained a strength that she had never felt before, and she had found a drive that her spirit had always lacked. She moved with speed, avoiding debris and bodies, as she made her way towards Daniel's unconscious form. Within a few moments, she had slid beside him with both knees on the ground, one hand on his shoulder, and another on his chest. She shook him hard once, twice, and a third time more. “Daniel,” Lynn said as she continued to shake, her head turning and watching as more concrete fell around them, “it’s time to wake up, Party Boy. We don’t have to go home, but we can’t stay here. Wake up, please,” Lynn pleaded as she rose from her feet. She grabbed him by the hand and began to pull. To say Lynn was weak would be a disservice to weak people. She had never lifted a day in her life, and while Daniel was not heavy, it was still difficult. Lynn began to tug and pull, leaning back with all her might, giving it some slack, before returning to pulling again. More and more debris fell around them as she did, and some seemed to almost curve towards Lynn’s head.

Groggy and uncoordinated - a drunkard after last call - Daniel ambled to his feet, able to vaguely move even if it were acutely obvious he’d fall in a heap without Lynn’s support. It felt like the lucid dream of someone concussed, the rational part of him could recognise danger in some vague acknowledgement but the rest of him lagged behind. Not helping was the echo of pain in his torso from when Valor had been knocked aside by the monster, something that didn’t ache as much as it felt akin to the pain of a phantom limb, an acknowledgement of pain but not the sensation. Even in this state, Daniel tried to mumble to Lynn, a thanks or a warning or something completely nonsensical in his addled mind, lost to the noise and chaos of the collapsing building.

Eventually, Lynn was outside, Daniel was halfway there, and the roof was holding on by a prayer. A large chunk wiggled loose and began to fall towards Daniel. With one last heave, Lynn pulled Daniel completely free of the warehouse and away from danger. YE-,” Lynn was interrupted as a small chunk of concrete exploded outwards from the impact sight. While it initially moved away from the two, something grabbed hold of the chunk and directed it right towards Lynn’s forehead. Fuc-,” Lynn stammered out right before the concrete impacted right on her cheek and the side of her head, a taste of metal filled her mouth, and the world spun around before she fell backwards and felt the cold ground greet her back. While she was not out, she was down and groaning in pain. Her thoughts felt like a mile away, and her vision felt a touch out of reach down a long tunnel.

“Uff!” Face smacking the dirt, Daniel would never quite know how narrowly he came to a much more mundane death or disfigurement after the nightmare that was this party.

The impact’s effect was twofold, one was caking Daniel’s face in muck and fully bloodying his nose after the impact of his last fall, the other was fully pulling him out of his post-possession stupor, a system reboot after smacking a machine. He scrambled like frozen water had been dumped down his back, everything flooding into his mind yet again, the deaths, the black knight, the end of the world. God, how many were dead? His head turned, a mask of frantic terror carved on his face, just in time to witness Lynn fall to the floor with a squirt of blood erupting from the side of her face.

“Lynn!” Daniel yelled, his manic fear suddenly focusing into a singular direction. As he stumbled back up, a thought emerged that would’ve ordinarily been chilling in its simplicity: he thought Lynn was dead.

It was welcome, if strange, relief when he reached her side to find her groaning and still moving. Even then, the sight was distressing, scraped flesh from where the concrete had struck her face and the slight glimpse of her teeth stained crimson from the blood welling in her mouth. Shots rang from behind the metal and concrete, more aimed debris striking the walls and the doorframe, they were being directed away, not that they needed additional reason.

“It’s alright, it’s ok!” Daniel sputtered, his rushed tone making clear he didn’t believe it himself. He coiled one of Lynn’s arms around his neck and began lifting her off the dirt, her willowy frame and Daniel’s comparative strength giving him an easier time than she did - suddenly his father’s homophobia-laden demands that Daniel get into sports was now mildly appreciated in retrospect.

LEAVE HER. THERE IS ANOTHER BEING IN THESE WOODS. WE MUST TRACK IT.. A voice echoed somewhere in Daniel’s mind, a thought forced into his head and making his brain feel like it was swelling beyond the contour of his skull as it spoke.

“It’s all going to be ok.” Daniel weakly repeated, the voice was fiction, all of this was fiction, everything would be ok when the sun came up. He felt tears stinging beneath his eyes and blinked them away, gritting his teeth and breathing loudly through his nose while he half-guided half-dragged Lynn down the dirt path to freedom. “We’re just- it’s-” His mind swelled again, something protesting, a defeated grimace rested on Daniel’s face. “Let’s show you around town; starting with the hospital.”

Lynn tried to respond, but her words were caught in her chest. Seeing the town sounded nice. It would be the perfect thing to distract her from just how bad her face and head hurt. They could see so many fun things, and they would start with the place called the hospital. Especially after whatever bad stuff had just happened, she knew she could go for some fun. Lynn grimaced as Daniel dragged her along as pressure built behind her eyes. It felt like her skull was filled with an ever-expanding foam. She felt every heartbeat in her temple, and each pulse arrived with a spike of pain. Daniel’s voice stretched and warped, and for some reason, it sounded like he was both right next to her and a million miles away.

Something warm crept down along her neck from her hairline, sticky against her skin. When she tried to swallow, her jaw hitched, and fresh crimson iron washed against her tongue. She realized, dimly, that she couldn’t quite tell if she was walking forward or being dragged. The spaces between moments kept disappearing on her, blinking out like skipped frames in a damaged film reel. Eventually, the skips turned into brief seizures like trips to the Garden. Daniel would watch as Lynn’s eyes would flash green for a brief moment, her body going stiff with it, before they returned to normal.

“M’fine…” Lynn slurred, though the word came out with an almost wet undertone. The attempt to speak only made her stomach lurch, and her ears ring. Lynn thought back to what Daniel had said earlier. Hospital. Ok. Safe. Maybe. Everyone she loved never made it to the hospital; maybe she truly needed it. She blinked slowly and immediately regretted it. For one terrible second, she couldn’t remember why they were running. Then it all slammed back into place at once. The carnage, a monster, collapsing concrete, and more loss. Her breathing hitched again. She dug shaky fingers into Daniel’s sleeve hard enough to wrinkle the fabric. She took a deep breath in and then exhaled deeply. The world focused around her ever so gently. The tunnel collapsed quickly, though her vision still felt further away than it should be. She was able to think again. And save was able to feel the pain she was in fully. Tears welled, fell, and burned as they crossed her wounded face, and a gentle sob quickly filled the air. Her free arm reached up and touched her lip, and her face winced sharply as daggers shot across her face. That was not good.

“Thank you Mars, Daniel Mars,” Lynn muttered, barely above a whisper.

The preacher’s boy never did quite make out what Lynn said, only hearing her sporadic, gentle weeps that reminded him to keep his own tears at bay. Only seeing the dripping blood and flashes of colour blink in and out of her eyes, reminding him that, however hard he may deny, tonight’s events were real. A reckoning had happened, children that Daniel had grown alongside - knowing their individual eccentricities, hopes and beliefs - were dead and left behind as the two continued down the dirt path.

Selfishly, Daniel felt some measure of gladness that Lynn was injured. Escaping alongside her was a goal, something to override the existential terror that would have rendered him catatonic in any other circumstance. In fact, he realised he didn’t feel much of anything right now. Numbed by so much change in such a short amount of time. Would there even be a hospital to reach? More likely all those worthy had been raptured far away from this town, the sinners left with a dreadful respite before the hells opened up in earnest.

Instead of divine light, it was a duet of cherry red and stark white that greeted them when they reached the treeline. Ambulances, squad cars, even a firetruck was turning the corner and making its way down the street from afar. Adults could only react in confusion and work off conjecture while scores of dirtied, bloodied teenagers babbled in hysteria, wrapped tightly in blankets and tears. A weary exhale, Daniel held Lynn closer against him - perhaps realising that with civilisation evidently not quite over yet, he would need her support more than she needed his.

“H-hey! Help! There’s been an- she’s hurt!” He said as he waved down one of the EMTs for help. A middle-aged woman took one glance at Lynn and widened her eyes before quickly jogging towards the duo. Daniel sardonically wondered how that same doctor would react when she saw inside of the warehouse.

Another attempt to bury it down before the police inevitably asked him for a statement. Tonight was a prank, some mundane explanation for however horrific the situation was. It only took another glimpse at Lynn to dispel that notion, a girl Daniel only just met hours ago now left mumbling imperceptibly after saving his life multiple times, blood beginning to drip down from her chin and into a discoloured pattern on her shirt. But really, what forced Daniel Mars to confront this new, warped reality, was the ever-present pressure on his skull as a voice demanded he return to the woods and deliver retribution, coldly repeating the order again and again.
Hidden 5 days ago Post by Blizz
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Blizz Archmage of the Fucking Universe / Etc

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The sounds of hell letting loose seemed to be growing distant. Tommy used the flashlight of his phone to keep going forward, while the golden creature circled him overhead. The adrenaline in his body was at a midway point between “On” and “Dump,” where he felt like stopping meant not getting back up. His thoughts were held together by sticks and glue, the sticks being the knowledge those ghosts had imparted onto him, and the glue being his survival.

”Magic is real. Magic… Is real.” He whispered the words out loud, between the light thunks of his improvised walking stick.

”What the hell else is r-“

Thud.

Something crashed onto Tommy with the force of a braindead jock hitting a two hundred pound wall on legs. Before he had the chance to react, he was face-down in the dirt and feeling the complaint of his injuries. He felt blood soak into his jacket as he landed on his wounded hand. The adrenaline came back to full blast.

”What in the good goddamn fucking shit is-“ He rolled and nearly ran for his life again, expecting something dangerous. But it was just Tyler Fox, out of nowhere.

”Where the fuck did you come from?”

Tyler gritted his teeth as his hand quickly grabbed the collar of Tommy’s shirt. “Talk,” Tyler balked as his free hand balled into a fist, “did you somehow cause this?”

”Cause what? Get your damn hands off me, Fox,“ He growled. ”I don’t know what the fuck’s going on. How did-“

The golden bird screeched. Then Tommy saw it swooping down.

”Hey- Hey hey!” Tommy lunged forward around Tyler and grabbed the damn thing midair. His hand was barely big enough to grab it by the beak. ”Stop!”

Tyler was stunned. Did this bitch try to deflect from his line of questions by grabbing a bird? The nerve. He was the nerd who probably played Dungeons and Dragons. He was the asshole who was most likely to be a believer in Satan. Answering a simple question with a question was low-key a soy boy beta male maneuver, and that pissed Tyler off. Tyler grabbed a rock and flicked it past Tommy while still facing the opposite direction. Tyler swapped, instantly appearing back in front of Tommy. He grinned for a second as he found this magic shit fun. He took a step forward and pushed his arm towards Tommy’s chest. “You show up, a fucking monster appears, and you’re fucking running away. That’s suss as, bro.”

”I’m not your bro. You’re here too, and I know damn well no one’s inviting you either,” He remarked, pushing himself up and letting the magic bird go.

”Leave him alone, he didn’t cause whatever happened in there.”

It ruffled its scarlet feathers and perched on the ground. Tommy grabbed his stick and leaned against it. ”Did you follow me out here? Because whatever the hell’s going on, it wasn’t me. Why would that be me?”

“Everyone invited me, bro. I am the star fucking quarterback in a rustbelt town,” Tyler grinned. He was so impressive. “You don’t know how much those fucking plebs wanted me there. But now,” a dead nerd flashed across his mind, the one he had condemned to death, and he had forgotten his name already, “you got that monster trying to attack me, and you expect me to think you did not summon that giant wolf thing? Admit it, freak.”

”That bird thing just came out of me five minutes ago.” Tommy raised up a bloodied hand, and more of that golden smoke started to come off his fingers. ”I saw people that weren’t really there, they told me magic’s real, next thing I know, I made that.”

The weird bird fixed an odd stare at Tyler. Its eyes were just two red orbs against half-real feathers.

”And now people are getting murdered, and you wanna bitch at me about it?”

This was going nowhere fast. Tyler knew he needed to pivot the questions to ensure that he could still blame Tommy without it going overboard. “Yeah, people are getting murdered up there,” Tyler paused as he pointed back to the warehouse, “and because you ran, because all of you ran, we couldn’t stop it. You fucking coward.”

”Stop it? Stop it?! Do you even know what it is?!” He balked. ”I just watched people get cut in half, like they were paper, what is wrong with you?”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Mister Star Athlete wanted to fight whatever that was instead of going home. ”One minute, I’m talking to you, and then it’s like someone drugged me. Everything stopped, now I’m throwing magic around because that’s a thing, apparently.”

Good. Tyler’s lightning quick style of attack has finally caught Tommy off guard. Now, he just needs to lull him in up close with the rushing attack only to throw it deep to put him out of his misery. That’s what he’ll do. He’ll be the hero at last. All he has to do is… Tyler craned his head. There was something fantasy about that last sentence. One minute he was stuck in the crowd, and the next he was feeling drugged, and to escape the high he had to use magic, that was a thing apparently. Did everyone who had magic go through the same experience? Tyler knew he needed to learn and understand the rules of this game before he truly formulated a gameplan. You can’t expect to run an efficient offense if you’re drawing a penalty on every play after all. Thus, as he loosened his muscles, he decided to spare Tommy for this moment.

“I met an old Prussian soldier. Said he was my ancestor, and he taught me as much as he could. Did you have the same thing happen?” Tyler paused as he reached down and grabbed several loose stones.

”…Kind of. Some old guy, and there was this woman with a snake around her neck. They-“ Tommy inched down and grabbed his phone where it had been knocked over. He moved it and pointed the light straight up. ”They said magic was real, and something happened before they’d tell me.” He reached into his blood-soaked jacket. ”Their faces were blurred, then I heard something. Then they looked normal… They showed me where to go to get out of there, they didn’t give me much to go off.” He withdrew his deck of cards that the bird was made from, and then knelt down.

”I don’t get why, but they sounded like they were in a hurry.” Tommy sat the deck down with his phone and snapped the branch he’d been using to stay upright in half. Then into quarters. ”The old man said to reach for these, then- Then I’d just know. I made that bird from- From fucking magic, and blood,” He finished, pulling out another card; The Nine of Spades.

“Have you tested your magic much, yet?” Tyler paused as he began to toss a stone in his left hand up into the air and catch it once more.

”Got it five minutes ago, so no.” He held the branches over the card, and it started to glow gold. And then the branches began to glow as well, held in place above the ground by some force.

”Okay… And I just- I don’t know. Fill in the gaps, I think.” What was he going to make this time? Tommy looked around, thinking. He didn’t understand how this was supposed to work, if blood was a necessity every time, or-

He saw something in the distance that caught his eye. The moonlight caught on something metal between two trees. Tommy stood up and hobbled over, about thirty feet away. It was large and covered in rust, and it looked as if vines and roots were growing out of it.

Red paint that was probably older then Tommy’s dad. An abandoned truck. The moonlight pointed out the mirror.

Then, Tommy had an idea.

He grabbed the old, cracked mirror by the metal frame around it and hauled. This truck must’ve been drove by someone half a century ago, back before the warehouses were here. Back when people could afford nice things. He wrenched it free, and the rusted-out arm it was attached to gave away.

”Yeah. I got it now.” He plodded back over and chucked the mirror at the arrangement of floating sticks, it was subsumed into the gold energy, glowing all the same.

”So…” The mirror and the sticks looked vaguely like something with four legs, so Tommy held out and hand and pictured an animal in his head. Something on all fours, that could see as well as a mirror could. The pieces he gathered moved and swirled around each other.

Gold Lux weaved between the pieces and around them, filling out what would be flesh on anything else. He paid attention to the eyes the most, and then the body felt like an extension of that. Wavy patterns reminiscent of spades, made from interlocking strands of wood.

The creature glowed, settled on the ground. The Nine of Spaces glinted gold against the light from Tommy’ phone. He had created a canine, something like a coyote that sat upright and craned its head at Tyler. Its eyes were the purest white, opalescent with a yellow sheen.

It didn’t move a muscle.

”I made the bird to hurt things… This one, I think I want him to watch for things. A guard dog.”

Fascinating.

Tyler’s curiosity piqued at the display of magic before him. This fucking loser might prove to have some worth, creating a line for him to command the field behind. That would require him to be fucking worth the effort, and Tyler did not think that he had a single heroic or decent bone in his body. He would need to be tested, he would need to be taken through a baptism by fire, and if he emerged on the other side of two-a-days in one piece, he would earn the right to be a part of his team. Tyler leaned down and grabbed a twig, and tossed it above.

“I can swap objects with each other.” Tyler paused as he swapped the twig in the air with the stone he had tossed above his hand, catching the twig as it swapped before waiting a second for the stone to drop down a second later and catching it as well.

”Sounds useful.” Tommy flexed the fingers of his busted hand. ”Is that how-”

The dog thing opened its mouth and made some groaning noise. It turned its head to look at something past the trees.

”...What the fuck now?” He grabbed his phone and pointed the flashlight that way.

For a moment the light shined on a still forest, a hard shift from the calamity that was occurring just beyond the trees. Then as the conversation stilled the boys would be able to hear it: a strange, arrhythmic wail interspliced with the distant sounds of all hell breaking loose from the warehouse. Perhaps it was the siren of an emergency vehicle on the way to the warehouse, only instead of getting further away it was coming closer, growing louder, sounding less mechanical and more guttural, feral.

The illuminated leaves began to rustle and shake as the horrible noise began to fill the air around them, becoming oppressive, perhaps bloodcurdling, when suddenly erupting from the brush was a wide-eyed, bloodsoaked Vicky. Brambles stuck to her ruined outfit and a few twigs had nestled their way into her hair. A fresh scratch was on her cheek, hidden beneath the crimson mask, her face twisted in a look of horror that rapidly jumped to confusion as she threw up a hand to shield from the light before shifting to recognition and then finally settling on rage.

“What! The! Fuck! Tyler! You! Ab—”

Vicky jumped as a coyote growl cut her off. She didn’t even hesitate as she caught sight of the critter, balled up the heavy jacket in her hands, and chucked it at the animal as hard as she could. Her mind hadn’t fully registered what she had just done as she blitzed Tyler, seemingly unaware that Tommy was even present, throwing wild, windmill punches at the motherfucker who had the gall to completely ditch her in her time of need. Normally her strikes would have some oomph to them—her pre-football game ritual of trying to give Tyler a dead arm for “good luck” proof of that—but given her state of inebriation, her form was sloppy and flailing, like a toddler getting into a slapfight.

Still, the image was terrifying.

“You unbelievable piece of shit!” screeched Vicky through big, angry sobs. I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!

For a brief moment, Tommy was feeling secondhand embarrassment.

”...It’s just her.” He scoffed.

Tyler sighed as the punches landed. Is that what that weakling, dead ex boyfriend, had to deal with any time the devils favorite princess didn’t get her way? It’s not like it was his fault, he didn’t know what his magic even really did. In the end, he learned he can only swap one item with another at a time thanks to Vicky. The desperate girl should be grateful. Tyler’s head craned again. On the other hand, he had just given her the notice that he would get her home, protect her even, and at least make the rest of this horror-filled night at least safe. He knew that he must look like a colossal asshole, especially because he did not come back for her.

He needed to pivot the focus.

Or he needed to own up to his mistake.

He could take the easy road and blame Tommy for this. That would be easy, however, he was establishing a rapport with his eventual pawn and he couldn’t afford to throw them under the bus before an actual bus was coming to run him over. That left two more roads he could go down. Own up to his mistake, or pivot the focus? Tyler thought this over for two seconds, weathering the weak storm of punches, before turning his head back to Vicky with a somber look in his eyes.

“I’m sorry Vicky,” he paused, still at the crossroads, “ever since I used my power to save you,” focus her attention on the good he did should make the relentless assault stop, “which inadvertently killed that nerd,” guilt trip her with the reminder that her life came at the cost of some weird dude, “I haven’t quite figured out the way it works. I wouldn’t have left you there on purpose.

The middle road. The combination of the two less desirable options to put Vicky back on the back foot. Perfection.

Tommy’s canine creature lowered its head and Vicky’s jacket hit the dirt.

”Did anything follow you out here?” Tommy asked. ”Giant werewolf, psychopath with an axe, another insufferable football player?”

Tyler’s play had seemed to work, as Vicky’s furious wet noodle assault came to a standstill. Then again, perhaps it was the realization that there was a whole other person there witnessing her have a total meltdown as Tommy spoke that truly made her stop, feeling a sudden wave of embarrassment. It was a good thing that she was covered in her boyfriend’s, ahem, ex-boyfriend’s blood as it hid the self-conscious flush of red on her cheeks. She picked a dead leaf out of her hair as she tucked a strand behind her ear, shuffling her feet awkwardly, not quite able to make eye contact with Tommy.

“Who would follow me?” said Vicky, still too upset to form a sentence with the words coming out all staccato. “There was this orange light, and then an explosion, only it wasn’t…I don’t know what it was. I saw the town, but it was wrong, stuck inside of this swirl and…the warehouse was collapsing and…”

Vicky’s eyes grew so wide that they almost matched Tommy’s watchdog as she started to draw in sharp, panicked breaths of air.

“I think everyone’s dead!” she shouted, covering her face as she erupted into tears.

”Not all of them, I think. A lot of them, though, yeah…” Tommy wasn’t really in a spot to process that in full. ”Some of them are fighting whatever’s in there. We can’t stay here, something might find us.”

Something like Regina George. Tyler's eyes shifted back to Vicky. Those crocodile tears did not fool him, not one bit. “I told them to run, and they still stayed and died,” Tyler shook his head from side to side, “we do need to get out of here. Get all the way away from this hell.”

A splash of blue peaked out from between frames of red as Vicky’s fingers parted and then closed once again as she shot a dirty look Tyler’s way. Was This Fucking Guy seriously jumping to victim blaming already? From behind her hands she let out a ragged, desperate choke that sounded something like an “uh huh”, the desire to get as far away from this nightmare being the only thing stopping Vicky from repeating “I told them to run” in a mocking voice. Wow, what a brilliant fucking idea that nobody had thought about doing. How many concussions did it take to come up with that one?

Still sniffling, Vicky pulled her head out of her hands and shivered. Where was Chef’s jacket? Wiping a very real tear from her eye (and noting how her contacts were killing her), her hand froze midswipe as her brain fully processed the canine seemingly constructed out of glassy twine. At least she tried to fully process whatever it was that she was looking at. Did it have some kind of weird disease? Was it fake? She had seen a robot dog before, a construct like this one, but its movement had been stuttery and poor, capable only of walking a few steps before doing a flip and falling over.

Her finger dropped from her cheek as she pointed at the…thingy…and let out a flat, monotone, “What.”

The jacket was right there next to it, but there was no way in hell she was approaching that thing as Vicky sniffed and let out yet another, more flabbergasted, “What?”

”I made that. Don’t worry about it right now…” Tommy reached down and grabbed the card the beast had come from. Without thinking, he pointed at it, and it disappeared. To Tommy's senses, it was inside the card, somehow.

Vicky’s jaw dropped.

”We should go. If my car didn’t get blown up yet, you two can just ride with me.”

And just as Tommy nearly finished saying that, Vicky screamed out over him, WHAT!?

”Sorry, I’m a little deaf in one ear, you wanna scream a little fucking louder in case that monster didn’t hear you?”

Vicky looked simultaneously appalled that Tommy had the nerve to talk to her like that and terrified that the monster might still be out there, hunting her.

I’ve been through a lot, okay? whined Vicky. “You don’t have to be so mean. It’s not my fault that I got dumped and all my friends are dead! Sheesh!” Vicky wrapped her arms around herself with a shiver and turned her back on the boys. “And I’m freezing! Where’s my jacket?”

If they thought she had simply overlooked the coat while freaking out at the disappearing dog, that illusion would soon be dispelled as Vicky held out a hand, making it all too clear that when she had asked, “Where’s my jacket?” what she really meant was, “Why haven’t one of you assholes picked up my jacket for me?”

Tommy buried his face in his hand and muttered something incoherent.

”For the love of fuck, here-” He grabbed the jacket off the ground and tossed at her with his non-bloody hand. ”Come on, car’s that way. You.” He pointed at the golden bird thing he’d made, which had landed in a tree.

It tilted its head at him.

”Don’t attack people. If there’s some fucking monster still around, kill it or something… Follow us.” He stuffed his deck away and started hobbling back through the woods towards the warehouse. The bird took flight.

“You could have just left it on the ground,” Tyler narrowed his eyes as he looked from Vicky to Tommy, “she would have picked it up eventually.” Tyler looked to the direction Tommy was heading, and realized his own truck was nearby. His pawn would lead the way. If there was any danger he would be the first to face it.

Vicky slipped her jacket on with a triumphant hmph, the victory short lived as she struggled to get her arm through the sleeve. With a nervous side eye to the weird bird thing and her left hand still trapped in the elbow of Chef’s oversized jacket she followed behind the two boys, sticking closer to Tyler. Perhaps it was because the mean kid who made animal friends in the woods made her nervous, or maybe it was a tactical decision, choosing the larger of two human shields just in case that monster had heard her scream.

“Dibs on sitting up front,” said Vicky. Sobriety still one terrible hangover away from even being a possibility, the adrenaline that had been pumping through her veins had now cooled enough for her to realize how much her body ached. She grabbed the back of Tyler’s shirt and slumped against him. Tyler, my feet hurt. How much further is it?”

“For the love of,” Tyler whispered to himself as he leaned his head back and stared up at the stars. Was this his punishment? Would he need to be around that bitch every day, hearing that grating voice every day, and having her ask those asinine questions every day? He shifted his head towards Vicky. “We’re almost there, Vicky, hold it together, please.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. Was she doing that shit on purpose, or was she just coping? ”We go around, not through. Easier to hide in the bushes that way,” He decided. And whatever monster it was killing people could’ve been busy eating bodies, too distracted to-

Okay, that was a little fucked up.

The unlikely trio pressed on through the woods. Tommy led the way, his golden bird of prey circling overhead. Tyler and Vicky followed after him, the latter practically gluing herself to the former lest he try that teleporting away shit on her again. The going was thankfully not especially treacherous but painfully slow, partially due to their roundabout path but mostly thanks to Vicky. Twice she had tried to get Tyler to carry her. More accurately, she had asked him once to carry her, pouted when the answer was (ridiculously, she thought) no, and then a few minutes later had just tried to clamber up his back, assuming that once she was locked in with the piggyback Tyler would be forced to just go with it.

That ended up not being the case, and once it was made clear that either it was Vicky would walk out of the woods on her own two feet or she would get left in them the attempts stopped. It wasn’t too long after that when the trio hit the treeline, the ruined warehouse looming across the field, the silence that hung in the air around it bonechilling and unwelcome. Before the warehouse were cars parked in the grass, less than before the party got crashed, but still far too many remained, either left behind in a panic or serving as temporary tombstones. A few bodies shuffled around outside of the warehouse. Perhaps people. Perhaps not.

“I’m not going back out there. Go get your car, and then come pick us up,” whispered Vicky, although even her whisper wasn’t quiet. It sounded like she was right by Tommy’s ear, yet she was crouched behind Tyler.

Tommy withdrew a switchblade, flicked it open and crossed the distance. A not so hushed “He has a knife! Why does he have a knife?” echoed behind Tommy as he stayed low, and the golden bird stayed high. It circled the warehouse looking for a piece of action, but there didn’t seem to be anything especially dangerous.

He pulled his jacket off and used to wipe the blood from his arm, rolling it up and sticking it in the glovebox. A moment later, his car, much nicer than Tyler’s coal-belching debt machine, pulled around the corner. He motioned for them to hurry their asses up, while he moved the passenger seat for someone to climb in the back.

Vicky gave Tyler an uncertain look. She really didn’t know Tommy outside of seeing his face around school, but he was the kind of guy who brought a knife to a party. Like who the hell brought a knife to a party? Even for as drunk as she was she still had enough kinda functioning brain cells to be nervous about showing the knife guy where she lived.

The sound of sirens closing in on the warehouse sent a wave of relief through her that crashed violently against a cape of fear. As weirded out as she was by Tommy being a fricking knife guy (seriously, what the hell, why did he have to be a knife guy?), the thought of getting busted for underage drinking AGAIN was a lot scarier. Last time Officer “Don’t call me Officer Bobby, it’s Officer Ferguson” Bobby said that if he caught Vicky drinking one more time he wouldn’t let her off with a warning, even if she was Winston’s kid sister. She rushed over to Tommy’s car and popped open the passenger door.

However, instead of getting in, as she had not been joking about needing to ride shotgun, she turned and bellowed as emergency vehicles started to arrive at the warehouse, TYLER! IT’S THE FUCKING COPS! GET IN!

”Hurry!”

The golden bird disappeared mid-air as Tommy did the thing to make them vanish. He didn’t know how that worked. Not yet.

Tyler looked at Vicky, then to Tommy, and then to the approaching vehicles. His head turned towards Vicky, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He grabbed a rather large rock and chucked it in the opposite direction of the lights and sirens. He tossed up a peace sign towards Vicky and, when the stone slowed down after bouncing across the grass, swapped positions with it and disappeared into the night.

A second after he was out of view a squad car pulled up and shined their spotlight onto the car. A dumbfounded, horrified look was frozen on Vicky’s face, her mouth agape, unable to believe what she had just witnessed. Her bottom lip began quivering as the door of the cruiser opened up and outstepped a man in uniform. Stupidly she raised her hands up in a surrender, an admission to guilt before a question had even been asked. Half blinded by fear and with the other half seeing double, tears began running down Vicky’s bloody face as she started to panic. This was unfair. This was so unfair. She didn’t even want to be here. She hated parties.

“Off–Office–Officer Bobby,” whimpered Vicky.

She was dead, she was so dead, and the next time she saw Tyler he was dead too. Deader than dead. Dead like her relationship. Dead like her future. Her crying became broken, heaving sobs as she tried not to hyperventilate. In one last ditch effort to get out of trouble, one of her hands dropped so it could point a finger at Tommy.

“He–He–He has a kniiiiiife!!!

Screeeeeeech.

Decades of dust, dirt, and flakes of glass from previous parties flew up into the air. The cop got his fancy uniform and face caked in so much dreck that Tommy severely doubted he’d even see Vicky standing there, let alone the color of his car or the plate on the back.

At least he tried.

Hidden 1 day ago Post by Atrophy
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Atrophy Meddlesome Kid

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Tuyen’s house.
A few days after the attack.



It had been a few days since the warehouse party turned nightmare, when Tuyen had managed to stumble home. She hadn’t left the house since.

The small, two storey house looked uninhabited. Perfectly clean and empty rooms were visible through the ground floor windows. The only sign of life came from a small window at the corner of the house on the top floor, with the occasional movement from behind the drawn curtains.

With her aunt and uncle still out of town with Min, Tuyen was the only one in the house. Even with the whole place to herself, she’d practically locked herself in her room. The rest of the house didn’t feel safe. Even her room didn’t feel safe. It never really had- it wasn’t home like the tiny apartment she’d stayed in with her dad was, but at least it was somewhere she could be alone. Before. Now there was always another voice whispering in her ear. She didn’t know what it was- if it even was something. It was probably just her losing her mind.

She’d barely slept, dark circles underneath her eyes stark against her pallid skin. At least there was no one to see the state she was in, except the shadow slinking around her that only she could see. It was silent for once, as she sat on her floor with her back against the bed. Maybe it thought she was doing a good enough job at torturing herself. A dark, loose skirt covered her legs pulled up to her chest and all the evidence of how much she’d spiralled these past few days.

She held Vicky’s phone in her hands, resting against her knees. She kept thinking she should give it back to her family… But she couldn’t bring herself to leave the house. Selfishly, she didn’t want to lose the last thing she had of her best friend either. The first day, she’d hoped it was some kind of horrendous hallucination. That would be better than Vicky being dead. But when she hadn’t turned up asking for her phone or demanding an explanation, Tuyen realised it hadn’t been. Vicky was really dead… And it was her fault.

Once, not so long after Tuyen’s father had passed, a promise had been made. It happened during the quiet hours of a sleepover in Vicky’s living room, one of the final ones they would ever have together before Vicky would become obsessed with her image and would never ever engage in something so lame and childish. A concerning amount of empty soda cans had lined the coffee table, nothing was left in the giant bowl for popcorn besides kernels and salt, and the only light was the dim glow from the TV as scenes from an R-Rated movie they were definitely way too young to watch looped on a DVD menu.

It was in this room, in that fugue state between nodding off only to momentarily jerk awake when their heads dipped too quickly, that Vicky, calling back to a conversation earlier in the night, groggily called out to Tuyen. Back then Tuyen’s friend was capable of sincerity, a trait that Vicky would shove down deep inside of her once she became popular, assuming she hadn’t killed it completely. So, without feeling the slightest bit awkward about it and wanting to find a way to make her friend who had lost not one but both parents feel some kind of comfort, Vicky promised she’d always be there for Tuyen no matter what.

Even if she died.

“I’ll just haunt you,” explained Vicky, as if it was something she could just do.

At the time it had seemed like she was just trying to be funny, breaking the tension of the heavy subject with a joke, but now it was more like a threat. A metaphorical haunting, perhaps, the dead phone of a dead friend serving as a constant reminder of one’s own abundant inadequacies, but if Tuyen had taken that moment to draw back the curtain and peep out the window she would’ve just seen a spirit in a bubblegum pink tracksuit fly up her driveway on a bicycle and skid to a stop.

The very-much-still-breathing Vicky groaned ever so slightly to herself as she glared at Tuyen’s front door, put down the kickstand, and adjusted the empty bat holder. She absolutely *hated* coming to Tuyen’s house even if it gave her a chance of running into Min. It was just so tiny and drab and there was nothing to do there. They didn’t even have a pool! How people could choose to live like this was truly bewildering to Vicky.

However, the worst part about Tuyen’s place was her aunt. When Vicky was younger she was kind of scared of her, Tuyen’s own anxiety whenever the woman was around spreading to Vicky. Now, Vicky just thought Tuyen’s aunt was a bitch, and Vicky was well versed with handling bitches. Despite this, Vicky’s hand still seized as she went to knock on the door, remembering the first time she’d come to Tuyen’s house, so excited to finally be allowed over, only to be yelled at by her aunt for knocking too loud. Her knuckles lightly rapped against the door.

The sound would be barely audible in Tuyen’s room. However, a few heartbeats later, as patience grew thin on the doorstep, there was a louder knock, followed by a banging. The banging subsided and in its place came a call from beyond, “Tuyen? Tuyen!”

Outside, Vicky made a flustered noise as she stepped back. Her hand patted at her pocket, briefly forgetting that her phone had completely disappeared in the chaos of everything that she did not want to think about right now. Fuck. She was probably missing out on like a thousand of text messages at this point. It was so stupid that her parents wouldn’t just buy her a new one. Ugh! She threw her head back with a sigh, rolling her eyes, her gaze stopping at the window of Tuyen’s room.

Ten seconds and Vicky was throwing a rock. Five. Four. Threetwoon—

Before Vicky got a chance to find the perfect rock for throwing at a window, the door opened. Tuyen just stood there, hands half covered by her sweater gripping tightly onto the handle. Her face was slightly damp, and she'd pulled her hair back into a low ponytail in an attempt to hide how greasy it was. The first knock had been barely audible, quickly written off as her imagination. The banging wasn't something she could ignore- even if it turned out to be a hallucination.

She'd expected it to all be another trick her mind was playing on her when she heard Vicky's voice. It still could be. It was a cruel trick. Maybe her guilt was manifesting. Maybe Vicky had come back to haunt her for leaving her to die.

”V- Vicky?” She stammered out, her voice slightly hoarse. In an unexpected move from someone who never took the initiative, and was constantly scared of rejection, she stepped forward to hug her friend. She'd learned the one thing her hallucinations couldn't imitate was touch. She felt real. Unless it was someone else with Vicky's face… No, that wouldn't make sense, anyone else would push her away immediately. Vicky was alive. Then what had she seen? Was that all a hallucination too? Or was none of this real?

The hug was short lived, Tuyen quickly stepping back when she confirmed her friend wasn't a ghost but a real, living and breathing person. She managed a small, nervous smile, really hoping her glasses did a good enough job at hiding the massive bags under her eyes. She should've quickly put on some makeup rather than just splashing water on her face on the way down. She didn't want anyone to see her like this, but especially not Vicky. Even if she was alive, Tuyen had still abandoned her. The grief she'd just begun to feel morphed into more guilt and a different kind of anxiety.

Vicky must be mad at her. She hadn't visited for days… Not even when Tuyen had her phone. She should just apologise first. But Vicky had told her it was annoying when she always apologised, so maybe that would make her even angrier. Saying she'd thought Vicky was dead would just sound like an awful excuse. It was best to act like normal, and wait for Vicky to tell her what she'd done wrong. ”I’m glad you're alright- I didn't know what to do after the… Party. Do you, uh, wanna come in? My family's still away, so it's just me. We can even sit in the living room… Did you come for your phone?”

If Vicky was mad her face didn’t show it, although the smile she had offered Tuyen faded quicker than usual as the party was mentioned. Her memory of it was scattered and broken, swathes of the evening blacked out from either alcohol or pure terror. What she could recall were things that Vicky wished she couldn’t. It had taken a few days to warp those horrific images, turning them into the fuel she needed to pull herself out of a cocoon of bedsheets to do something other than talk to the cops, rebranding the trauma as motivation.

So when Tuyen said “Party” and Vicky heard Chef’s dying scream as he was bisected in her head she was hardly bothered by it at all. If anything, it just reminded her of how much it sucked that she had to throw out her party outfit because of all of the blood. Vicky was doing fine. She was doing great. She was doing better than Tuyen was doing, that was a fucking fact. Vicky had whiffed a bit of funk during that short hug. It smelled like victory. Normally Vicky was the one in need of consultation. It was a nice change of pace.

For a second Vicky thought that she really should check and see if Tuyen was okay. Perhaps even two seconds.

“You have my phone? Thank God!” said Vicky. She was completely nonchalant as she breezed past Tuyen, happily ignoring the “no shoes in the house” policy now that Tuyen’s aunt was gone as she made a beeline for the couch. She dropped down across it with a violent thump, kicking her sneakers up on the armrest, knocking down a couple of throw pillows that she didn’t bother to pick up, taking the entire couch to herself. Her right hand was draped out oddly off the couch, slightly raised, as if she was resting it on something that wasn’t there.

“I must’ve missed like a million texts. Everyone is probably worried sick about me! Fucking Diane. Still can’t believe that after all I went through she grounded me anyway. So glad to be out of that house,” said Vicky.

That was a lie, and Tuyen would know it was a lie. Even if Vicky’s mother Diane did ground her daughter, which she wouldn’t, there was no way in hell that Vicky would abide by the grounding. It was just a better excuse than, “Sorry I would’ve come over sooner but I was too busy staring blankly at the wall next to my bed.”

“Tuyen!” barked Vicky, jumping back up to her feet despite having just sat down. She pointed at Tuyen with the same kind of enthusiasm she would have if she was thrusting out a pom pom. “What are you doing today?”

Her phone, Tuyen’s shitty, sad appearance, and the opportunity to finally chill in a part of Tuyen’s house that wasn’t her bedroom had briefly distracted Vicky from the reason for the visit. If there were any hard feelings about the party, Vicky was blowing right past it and resuming the friendship as if one of them didn’t completely abandon the other to die in a warehouse. Water under the bridge, that, or more likely it was just ammunition saved for later, waiting to be loaded and fired when Vicky really wanted to pressure Tuyen into doing something for her.

Without allowing the girl an opportunity to answer, because the answer was always going to be whatever Vicky wanted her to do anyway, Vicky said, “You’re going to shit your fucking pants!”

The hand that pointed at Tuyen wiggled back and forth. Apparently it wasn’t an order so much as it was a prediction. Whatever Vicky believed would make Tuyen incontinent was held within her very hand. Only, Vicky’s hand wasn’t fully closed, but cupped in a loose grip, and the wiggling made it quite clear that what she was holding was nothing.

“What do you see?” asked Vicky, barely able to contain the grin.

Was this another trick? Was Vicky playing a trick on Tuyen?

Unlike Vicky, she didn't have the chance to sit down and jump back up, too overwhelmed by the whirlwind that was her friend. Brief relief that she wasn't immediately pushed away turned into anxiety over the dirt from Vicky's shoes transferring onto the couch armrest. Hopefully it would be easy to clean off… She didn't want to think about how angry her aunt would be if it wasn't. Min wouldn't even be there to diffuse the situation anymore either. Then there were other anxieties: why was Vicky lying about being grounded? Because she was upset with Tuyen but didn't want to say anything? Did she look so bad Vicky was worried about upsetting her, when normally she'd be brutally honest? At least, in the last few years she was… Maybe the party had changed things a bit.

Or not, based on how Tuyen couldn't get a word in otherwise. Any offer to run upstairs and actually get Vicky's phone was blown away with the wind, as were any other words Tuyen might have wanted to say. Thankfully, she didn't have anything to do today… Not that she really wanted to be around anyone right now. But she couldn't say that to Vicky, especially when she seemed to be in a good mood, all things considered.

Not that she could ever say that to Vicky.

”Nothing.” Tuyen answered eventually, squinting at Vicky's outstretched hand. Her eyes dropped as if looking at the floor out of confusion, when really she was looking at her shadow.

It was normal. A perfectly normal fuzzy shadow cast by the living room windows. No sinister smiles- no smile at all. She'd been beginning to suspect it was behind all the things she was seeing and hearing, because her shadow hadn't moved before. It was the only constant in the last few days. But now it was gone.

So was she really going mad? What if there really was something in Vicky's hand, and it wasn't a trick, and she'd just outed herself as being crazy? Tuyen bit her lip, taking off her glasses to rub her eyes before putting them back on and squinting again. Still nothing. Certainly not something that would make her shit her pants- a hard task after everything that she'd seen during and since the party.

”Should I be able to see something? Maybe I need new glasses.” She laughed it off with a small smile. Maybe Vicky was having hallucinations too, and it was caused by mass psychosis post seeing their classmates die. That would be nice. The moment she had that though her smile wavered, guilt tightening her chest. She shouldn't think something like that, she should be grateful to even be alive. Just concentrate on Vicky right now. Like nothing had happened she smiled again, dark eyes raptly watching Vicky in the way she always did when she happily listened to anything her friend said. Not that Vicky ever needed that encouraging look. ”What is it meant to be?”

Vicky just shook her head, the smile on her face growing smug as she took an excited step towards Tuyen. Something lightly prodded Tuyen’s chest even though there was still a gap between the two girls. Vicky took her left index finger, placed it at her right wrist, and then drew her right hand back like she was pulling a ripcord as the phantom pressure on Tuyen’s chest disappeared. Suddenly there was a bat where there was once seemingly nothing, reappearing the second that Vicky’s finger had slid all the way down from the grip to the tip, reversing the Strikeout spell she had cast on it.

“Sooooo, magic’s real,” said Vicky, triumphantly slinging the bat over her shoulder.

”Oh.” Tuyen’s initial verbal reaction was lacklustre, unlike her reactive flinch away from an invisible force. But her eyes did widen as she stared at the now visible bat, then at Vicky.

Magic was real. It shouldn’t surprise her, but some part of her was still in denial about what happened at the party. She’d believed Vicky was really dead, but it was hard to accept it had been by some invisible force- that there’d been a monster there. When Vicky turned up alive, it was more likely that it was all a hallucination.

But it turned out only Vicky dying had been. She didn’t understand why, and she couldn’t think about it, because she was standing there stupidly staring at her friend without any further reaction. Hopefully Vicky would just think she’d been shocked stupid.

“Oh?” repeated Vicky, having hoped for a bit more.

”What? You can use magic?” Tuyen finally gasped, actually surprised. Just because monsters were real didn’t mean normal people could suddenly use magic. She couldn’t. Though that wasn’t much of a surprise. Why would someone like her get magic? It made sense that someone like Vicky would, but not her. She was so weak that she’d ended up seeing things for days after just seeing a monster. ”How- How did you do it?”

That was better.

“Oh, it’s easy. It just comes naturally,” said Vicky, cycling between the bat being visible and invisible. Each time it disappeared a spark of light gleamed from her finger nail as she traced it along the bat.

Truth be told, she couldn’t even begin explaining how it was possible, or how she could do it, or what she was even really doing. The spell was simply replication, stolen from a foggy vision during her Kindling that had survived being purged from her memory. Still, why pretend like she was anything other than a super cool, ultra powerful witch?

“And that’s not all!” Vicky turned her head slightly and poked at her cheek, giving Tuyen a clear target. “Hit me.”

Tuyen's awe towards Vicky quickly turned back to anxiety when she was faced with a lose-lose situation. Was this how Vicky wanted to get her anger out? Was she planning to get upset when Tuyen punched her, or if she didn't do what she asked?

She didn't want to, but it was easier to do what Vicky said. She'd make sure it was a weak punch- not that she could deliver a strong one anyway.

”O-Okay.” Tuyen clenched her fist, and aimed a pathetic punch at Vicky's cheek.

Vicky waved a hand behind her back as Tuyen’s fist, well, it didn’t quite soar through the air so much as it reluctantly trudged through it. There was a static pop and a flash of dim light moments before knuckles touched cheek. If Tuyen had thrown a real haymaker she might’ve ended up with a sore wrist. Instead, all she would feel was a kinetic slap across the knuckles as Vicky dramatically oversold the absorbed punch. She spun and twisted her head down as she doubled over, grabbing at her cheek, her hair and hand covering up the magical weave as it snapped and vanished.

“Owwww! Ohmygawd, Tuyen! Whatthefuck!?” shouted Vicky, a champion in overreacting to a slight injury. “I didn’t think you’d actually do it! Ohmygawd, you might’ve broken my face!”

Vicky stood up straight and flicked her hair back, revealing that it had all been just a bit to give Tuyen a bit of panic and that her face was still absolutely perfect. She let out a sharp, meanspirited laugh, the kind that left no question when it came to determining if Vicky was laughing with or laughing at.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Didn’t feel a thing,” said Vicky, still cracking up at herself. “I think even if I didn’t use magic I wouldn’t have felt anything, either. If that’s the hardest you can hit we need to get you to a gym. Should we try it with something else?A knife?” Vicky let out a loud gasp. “No, wait! Does your uncle have a gun?”

Tuyen wrung her hands in front of her, panicked apologies dying on her lips. There was still panic in her eyes, lingering as Vicky’s fake pain overlapped with horrific images. A disembodied head, blood dripping from torn flesh at the neck, glazed over eyes staring at her. Blond hair turned crimson. A half open mouth filled with blaming words. Sinister, mocking laughter rang in her ears.

She snapped out of it, covering the moment of real fear up with an awkward, self deprecating smile. ”No he doesn’t.” Something she was very thankful for now. ”I don’t want to try with something else… What if it really hurts you? I know you’ve got magic and it’s really strong, but I just don’t think I can try and hurt you.”

When disagreeing with Vicky, it was best to compliment her too, in the hope it would dampen any strong reaction. Throwing in a compromise wouldn’t hurt either. ”Maybe I can throw something at you?”

“I’ve seen you throw before. No thanks,” said Vicky, falling back onto the couch with a pout. “Forget it. I guess we’ll just have to wait until Jared’s crazy ass breaks out of prison to find out if I’m bulletproof or not.”

It was clear that Vicky was a bit disappointed, although it really wasn’t because of Tuyen’s compromise. While she was absolutely thrilled to have magic, she didn’t consider it to be really strong despite what Tuyen had said. Her only other spell was creating some lame quiet space, it wasn’t showy or cool at all. There was no point in even showing it to Tuyen. Tyler could make himself teleport, and Tommy could summon a bird to shit all over somebody’s car or peck out their eyes. She couldn’t even make herself go invisible, only small stuff. So, what, she could easily shoplift some lipstick like some lameass criminal? It fucking sucked how everyone got cooler magic than she did.

Maybe she could convince Tuyen to go raid the 7-Eleven with her. But even then they could only snag one six pack of beer.

“So what about you? You get some magic too?” asked Vicky, adding under her breath, “Seems like everyone else did.”

After some hesitation, Tuyen sat down on the edge of the armchair that was expressly her aunt’s, with no one else ever allowed to sit on it. But it was closest to where Vicky’s head was, and her aunt wasn’t here. She gripped onto her knees, fingers subtly clenching into her skirt.

Magic was yet another thing for her to feel insecure about. Someone like her didn’t deserve it, and she’d never been lucky either. It wasn’t a surprise everyone else had it and she didn’t. Even if she did have it, she probably wouldn’t be able to use it well. She really was useless. At least if she had a little bit, she could have helped people at the party.

”No, I didn’t,” she said quietly, looking at her feet. Not unless a possibly sentient shadow counted. But it was just as likely she was going mad, and the one consistent factor between all her hallucinations was really just a part of them. ”I can’t do anything. I’ve seen some strange things, but I don’t feel any different.”

Though the hallucinations counted as strange things, that wasn’t what she meant. There’d been the monster at the party, and other less scary things she’d seen peering out her window at night. She didn’t understand why that was happening… And maybe it was all from her imagination. But she had a gut feeling some of that was real.

”Who else got magic? Did you all form some kind of magical link because of it?”

“No, I don’t think we did?” replied Vicky, quickly hiding the sly smile that had emerged on her face upon learning that Tuyen didn’t have magic. “I hope not, anyway! Tyler has it, too. Ick, imagine having to be linked to him forever. So does that one weird kid, the one obsessed about his lame old car?” Vicky pretended not to be able to remember Tommy’s name. “Double ick.”

Did anyone else…Vicky sat up, suddenly recalling a part of the night she had forgotten, a look of horror on her face.

“Oh man, I think Ella has magic too! Ick, ick, ick! I do not want to be linked to her,” said Vicky, her voice suddenly shifting into a surprisingly decent Ella impersonation, complete with gratuitous, needless posing and peace signs. Ohhoho, Vicky-sama, it is such an honor to be a magical girl alongside you, senpai.

Seriously, why did all the assholes and losers get magic? Wait, did that mean that Vicky was—no, nope, nah, absolutely not. Just a coincidence. Still, she didn’t like the company she was in, not one bit.

“Ugh! They’re all so intolerable. It sucks that you didn’t get magic. I don’t want to be stuck with them,” said Vicky.

She flopped back down, rolled onto her stomach, and buried her face into her arms with a loud groan, kicking her feet against the arm of the couch before she completely deflated. Vicky said something muffled into the couch cushion, followed by a pause, followed by a muted “wait” before she pushed herself back up and let out a loud gasp.

“What if I could teach you? I learned by seeing it, sorta, so maybe that’d work for you?”

Although finding out so many other people had magic was a blow to Tuyen's already fragile self confidence, it was at least softened by the Ella impersonation. Her laugh was actually genuine, her eyes creasing behind her glasses and tense frame relaxing just slightly. Tuyen liked Ella, but she knew the overly energetic girl wouldn't notice her if she wasn't Vicky's friend and thus the occasional sub for the soft ball team, so she didn't feel much guilt about finding it funny. And the impression really was accurate. A smile remained even when Vicky went back to complaining. It wasn't unusual for Tuyen to smile- pretend she was alright was second nature, and it was an important part of that. It was even genuine most of the time. The current smile was more like her normal ones in that regard, rather than the awkward or nervous ones she'd been trying to force out.

She felt a bit more normal again, even if her normal wasn't exactly happy. She may not have magic, but at least she had Vicky. For days she'd thought she had no one left. Not having magic was expected, and just another thing to feel inferior over, but she was already so much worse than everyone-

”You really think I could learn?” She leaned forward, looking at Vicky with wide, excited eyes. Having hope led to disappointment, but she could never stop herself from hoping. At least this time, it doesn't matter if it doesn't work, because it's time spent together… Right?

”I’d like to try. Even if it doesn't work, it doesn't necessarily mean you're stuck with them, unless you have to form some kind of magic team… Even then, I'll help somehow.” For a moment, the image of a shadowy creature cutting a path through teenagers flashed through her mind. But that hadn't been her. It couldn't have been. She forced away the image, concentrating on Vicky, staring at her with excited expectation tinged with admiration. ”I wouldn't leave you alone with them… But let's try it. Please teach me.”

“It will work,” said Vicky, having absolutely no idea of how to even go about such a thing but still able to convince herself that she could.

Vicky hopped up to her feet, rolled her shoulders to loosen up, and directed Tuyen to stand up with her. Now, where to actually start? She was pretty sure if she threw a punch at Tuyen while trying to teach her how to cast a Shutout spell it would just immediately end their training session, so instead she’d teach her how to make something invisible. Then later they could shoplift two six packs of beer. Vicky grabbed one of the throw pillows she had knocked off of the couch and set it on the coffee table.

“Okay, this is an easy one. Requires less precise timing. All you have to do is take your finger, run it across the length of the pillow, and think…” About how nobody else deserved to have it, “...of it like you’re striking it out like a word from a page. Like this.”

Vicky swiped her finger across the pillow and it was gone, her softball bat reappearing in her hand. A swipe in the other direction and it was back again. She stepped back and leaned on her bat as she crossed her leg in front of the other, gesturing for Tuyen to step up to the challenge.

“Go on. Give it a shot,” said Vicky. She snapped her fingers. “Oh, and like, really focus.”

Vicky made it sound incredibly easy, though Tuyen knew things were rarely that easy for her. Maybe this time it really would be so simple. Even if it took a few tries, she’d still be able to use magic. If it could even be taught.

”Alright, I understand. I’ll try my best.” Tuyen slid forward, kneeling in front of the pillow. Her shadow followed her, its growing strangeness out of her sight and invisible to anyone else. She’d watched Vicky raptly, easily taking in each small movement. She was experienced in that, after all. Though she couldn’t read Vicky’s mind and know if she was thinking something specific when using magic… She could only hope Vicky would’ve told her.

Tuyen took a deep breath, and swiped a finger across the pillow with much less confidence than Vicky had. As her finger lifted up, the pillow disappeared right before her eyes. She let out the breath she’d been unknowingly holding in and her eyes widened.

”Did I do it?” she gasped, hardly believing it, but desperately wanting to at the same time.

Vicky covered her mouth as she snorted at Tuyen’s genuine excitement for failing so hard.

“Oh, wow! Yeah! You did it!” teased Vicky before bursting into laughter. It took her a moment to recompose herself. “Oh my god, that was fucking adorable. I mean, the motion was spot on but I never doubted that you could move your finger. Okay now, like, do it again, a little faster maybe, only this time actually make it go invisible, okay? You got this. I believe in you.”

Vicky squatted down across the table from Tuyen and gave her an intense stare that was one part motivational and two parts intimidation: don’t fuck up this time. “And remember: focus.”

Tuyen’s momentary joy was quickly shattered by Vicky’s laughter. Her stomach sank. Horror filled her gaze that she forced to stay on the pillow she couldn’t see, rather than looking towards her friend- or something else. It wasn’t the teasing that upset her, or the laughter. Vicky had even said it was adorable, which made the sting of failing a little less sore.

It was that she couldn’t see the pillow at all. It had disappeared, but only for her. She thought the hallucinations had stopped, at least when was with Vicky- that being with someone made it better.

”Right, it was just a joke… I almost got you, right?” Tuyen laughed, uncomfortable under twin intense stares, one much more sinister than the other. She still stared intently at where the pillow should be, pretending it was to focus instead of to prevent Vicky seeing the emotions she couldn’t hide from her eyes. ”Sorry, I’ll focus.”

She didn’t know where the edge of the pillow was so she could only go by her memory. Thankfully her finger landed on its softness rather than continuing down to the hard table, though to Vicky it would be obvious she was closer to the centre than one end of it. She narrowed her eyes and forced a confident, slightly fast swipe. The pillow stayed hidden and she didn’t immediately react this time, waiting for Vicky first. Though she had a sinking feeling it hadn’t worked, and never would.

“You’re not focusing!” Vicky let out a frustrated groan as she slapped her forehead. Not only was the pillow visible, she didn’t even do the motion right. How many times did she have to say focus to get Tuyen to stop goofing around and fucking focus? Her voice became an annoyed growl. “Do you want magic or not? Then. FOCUS!”

Wait, focus? Vicky smacked her forehead again.

“Oh my god, Tuyen. I’m so sorry. I forgot the most important part. It’s way easier if you have a focus to channel your magic through. You know, like a magic wand or a wizard’s staff…or a bat, apparently,” said Vicky, wiggling her Channeler. “Just grab anything sticklike and that should do it. Oh, and get my phone, too!”

Tuyen subtly flinched as Vicky got more frustrated at her. She was fighting a losing battle, trying to focus on something that she couldn’t see. But that was just an excuse for how lazy she was. She wasn’t even trying because she already knew she’d fail. She was useless. She couldn’t even use a little bit of magic.

”Oh, it’s alright… I’ll be back in a moment.” Tuyen smiled, glad for the excuse to be alone for a moment while also feeling guilty for feeling that way. She quickly disappeared out of the room, practically silent when she was out of sight, even when going up the stairs.

Vicky’s phone was where she’d left it on her bed. Finding something sticklike took a bit more work… But it wasn’t so much of a problem as the pull her bedroom had on her. Once she entered, Tuyen didn’t want to leave again. It didn’t feel as safe as it once had, but it was still safer than anywhere else. At least here there was no one to witness her breakdown.

She thought she’d be able to handle spending time with Vicky. She thought it might stop the hallucinations. But it didn’t. It was too much for her. Everything was.

She was snapped out of it by a sudden fear, grabbing a pencil and rushing back out. If she took too long Vicky wouldn’t just wait, she’d shout for Tuyen and maybe even come upstairs to find her. Tuyen couldn’t have her coming into her room right now. It made it obvious how the last few days had gone for her, and there were things in there she really didn’t want her friend to see.

”Will this do?” She asked, reappearing after what had felt like an age but had really not been much more than five minutes. She held up a pencil in one hand, holding out Vicky’s phone with the other.

“Yes!” cried an absolutely elated Vicky.

Given how quickly she snatched the phone out of Tuyen’s hand it might not have been in response to the question. Then Vicky made it quite clear that it wasn’t as she hugged the phone to her chest, let out a delighted little squeal to finally, finally, finally be able to check in with all of the other popular girls (no way would she show up to their house like she had with Tuyen, that was way too uncool) and let them know that their queen had survived. She beamed, absolutely radiant, ready to bath her face in that wonderful blue light. Her trembling finger hit the button on the side, her head falling down in a slump the second she saw the black screen with a picture of an empty battery on it.

“What the fuck, you didn’t charge it?” bitched Vicky, a flash of heat rising in her voice that quickly dispersed. She waved away the complaint before Tuyen had a chance to apologize (and God would she apologize, sheesh). “Don’t worry about it. Seriously, thank you so much for saving this. Oh Tuyen, you’re just the best.”

“Keep practicing. I’m sure you’ll get it,” said Vicky, starting to walk out of the room towards the stairs. “Be right back. I’m just gonna steal your charger.”

”Wait!” Tuyen called out with more assertiveness than she could normally muster, quickly following behind Vicky to stop her. Quick, she had to come up with an excuse. ”My room's a mess right now… I was in the middle of tidying it. You won't be able to find my charger, it's probably hidden under something, I'll get it.”

Her explanation was hurried but at least it was partly truthful. It was just more than the mess. It was evidence of how much she was struggling. She couldn't have Vicky seeing that, she really couldn't. She tried to move past Vicky, looking down at the floor as the brief bout of assertiveness quickly gave way to guilt over lying.

Vicky slid to the right and then to the left to block Tuyen from getting past her. A mess? Yeah, right. She knew an excuse when she heard one. Sometimes Tuyen just needed a little push, especially when it came to anything moderately difficult. First she'd offer to grab the charger, then she'd suggest they get a snack, and so on and so forth before Vicky had been completely distracted and forgotten about the whole thing.

”Ohhhh no you don't. Get back in there and keep practicing. I want the pillow to be gone when I get back,” said Vicky, putting a foot on the first step.

”God, you're so lazy. No wonder you don't have magic.” A poor imitation of Vicky whispered in Tuyen's ear.

”I’m not trying to get out of practicing! It's really not an excuse!” Tuyen actually snapped, reaching out to grab Vicky's wrist. It was a fairly pathetic snap, with barely any bite to it, but it was completely out of the ordinary for her. Immediately her eyes widened and the hand holding onto Vicky trembled slightly, but didn't let go. Oh God, what had she done? ”I- I'm sorry, but I'm really not lying, it's really messy- C-cause nobody else is home, I've been lazier with it, I'm really sorry, Vicky, I didn't mean that… Just please let me get the charger for you.”

Vicky was briefly stunned by Tuyen’s sudden bark, absolutely gobsmacked by her friend’s unbending insistence. An apology started to approach Vicky’s lips before it retreated back down into the pit of her stomach as she wrenched her wrist free from Tuyen’s grasp and rubbed it. Vicky glared down her nose at Tuyen, feelings of confusion and suspicion drowned out by a lowpitch whine that became a feral scream in her head as her temper flared. What the actual fuck was Tuyen’s problem? The more Tuyen made it clear that she didn’t want Vicky in her room, the more Vicky wanted to push her away and storm up the stairs to see what she was hiding.

“Oooooooooooookay,” said Vicky, stretching the word to buy time to abate the fury inside of her.

Vicky knew Tuyen. The mess was probably nothing more than some clothes on the ground and an untucked bed. She had wanted a charger and she was getting a charger. Who got it didn’t matter. Vicky took her foot off of the step and moved to the side to let Tuyen through with a sneer.

“You’re not acting weird at all. If you don’t want me in your room, just say so. I don’t care.” Vicky walked back into the living room, calling out behind her, “It’s not like I don’t know what’s going on. It’s pretty obvious what you get up to when nobody’s home, sinner.”

Tuyen froze, a panicked gaze following Vicky’s back. She was right. Tuyen was a sinner. But how did Vicky know that? She couldn’t know about the self harm. Tuyen hid it too well, even her cousin didn’t know, and they’d lived together. It couldn’t be that… Then had she found out about Tuyen’s disgusting feelings? She thought the Tuyen- think of that- No, then their friendship would be over. But what else could it mean? Did she really know Tuyen hurt herself, and didn’t care?

Filled with panic, Tuyen forced herself to run upstairs, finding her charger as fast as she could to avoid upsetting Vicky further.

When Tuyen came back downstairs, Vicky was pacing in the living room. She snatched the charger out of Tuyen’s hand without a thanks or even a simple acknowledgment of her existence. Vicky found the closest wall outlet, hooked everything up, and sat down on the floor. It was quite clear that she was still annoyed by Tuyen for standing up to her, even if it was over something so minor, as Vicky’s attention remained solely focused on the black screen of her phone as she waited for the big, fat zero hovering over the battery symbol to become a one.

The room felt oppressive as Vicky finally spoke without looking up, breaking the uncomfortable silence but not the tension, “Why do I still see a pillow?”

”I- I’m sorry,” Tuyen stammered out, having not even gone back to the pillow. In fact, she’d barely moved since Vicky took the charger. Her nervous gaze flickered from the floor to Vicky, then back again. Her expression was bad, but how she felt was much worse. Years of practice let her hide it under a mask of normal anxiousness, so it wasn’t visible just how terrified and miserable she felt. It had been a lose-lose scenario, but why did she snap at Vicky? Why did she make everything so much worse?

She didn’t know how to fix things. Normally she’d get something for Vicky to break the silent treatment, before doing whatever she was asked to. But she couldn’t drag herself out of the house to Starbucks to get her whatever sugar-free coffee was her current favourite this time. Just the thought of leaving the house had her heart pounding in her chest and her breathing growing even quicker. Her shadow slunk around her, the corners of her vision seeming to grow darker, like she was getting trapped in. She wanted to leave, to hide in her room to escape this situation. But she couldn’t. She had to try and salvage the only friendship she had. Even though it was probably already over.

”I’ll try harder.” Tuyen made her way back to the pillow, thankfully visible to her again. At least she’d be useful again if she managed to make it disappear. Grasping her pencil, she tried again.

And again and again, for five minutes, ten minutes, without a single change. Tuyen practically disassociated, arm going through the motions as her mind disconnected from it. She didn’t feel frustrated at the lack of progress, only hopeless. It was like her chance of fixing things was slipping away with each failed swipe. She could only give up. She couldn’t use magic, no matter how hard she tried. She just wasn’t good enough.

She took a deep breath, managing to push back down the despair she was feeling and that had slipped into her expression. Then she turned towards Vicky with an apologetic smile, nervously wringing her hands together. ”I really don’t think I can do it. Maybe only certain people can use magic, and it can’t be learned… Maybe I wasn’t chosen, and you were.”

Vicky had her head down, thumb swiping as she stared down at her phone. She hadn’t looked up since she had been able to turn it on, seemingly unaware that Tuyen had been still attempting magic. Normally, in the absence of a present, some praise (yes, yes, but of course she’d be chosen) might be enough to warm up Vicky’s cold shoulder. Yet her irritation had shifted, becoming darker and more glum. All she could offer up as she continued staring into the screen was a halfhearted, “Yeah, maybe…”

It just didn’t make sense. Something must’ve been wrong with her phone. Perhaps it was glitchy. Perhaps it had needed an update. Maybe it just had to be connected to the WiFi. Yet Vicky had troubleshooted everything while Tuyen was failing to disappear a pillow and her phone should’ve been functioning normally. So why then did she have so few new text messages? She had seen some of her friends’ cars were missing while getting questioned by the cops, so they weren’t all dead. And it wasn’t like she had stopped getting texts after her phone had died, because one had been delivered to her the moment she had turned it on.

It had been from an unknown number, a long, a heartfelt message from someone named Rebecca expressing her deepest sympathies for what Vicky must’ve been going through with the loss of her boyfriend, confessing that they too had recently lost a loved one, and offering to take her out for a coffee if she needed someone to talk to. It was nice, and thoughtful, and immediately deleted once Vicky realized that Rebecca was actually Dumbfuck Dickbrain aka that weasel Danny Graham’s girlfriend.

It was a mystery why Bitchface O’Whoreslut thought Vicky would ever want her consolation, but the bigger concern was why had none of her friends texted her? Everyone knew by now that Chef had died at the party, so why wasn’t she getting bombarded with attention? And in memoriam had played the other day on the local news, so they would’ve known that she wasn’t actually dead. Even the group chat she was in with all of her friends had no new messages. That simply was impossible. Something was up. Something was wrong.

“Tuyen,” said Vicky, breaking away from the shackles of her phone to close the distance between them. She plopped down across the coffee table from her, brushed the pillow off the top, and held open her palm as she gave Tuyen an unflinching staredown. “Give me your phone.”

”A-Alright,” Tuyen immediately agreed, though she was scared about why Vicky wanted her phone. Was she trying to find evidence of the sinning to use against her? Or maybe she was going to do something in revenge, like text her aunt something that would get Tuyen in loads of trouble. She had no idea, but at the same time was desperate to make things up to Vicky.

She patted her skirt, before belatedly realising it didn't have any pockets. Where was her phone? She hadn't seen it in her room… When did she last use it? Oh, right, last night when she planned to try and eat, only to be interrupted by a call from her aunt scolding her for something Tuyen didn't remember doing. It had killed any appetite, and she'd left her phone in the kitchen when fleeing to her room.

”One minute.” Tuyen quickly got up and scurried through to the kitchen, grabbing her phone off the counter. There weren't any important messages thankfully, just a few from Min this morning telling her to not mind what his mum had said and that she'd been in a bad mood last night for other reasons. As she walked back through, Tuyen sent a simple ‘it’s okay' in response. She exited her messaging app and put her unlocked phone in Vicky's outstretched hand. Maybe Vicky's phone was just broken somehow, and it wasn't anything bad. Tuyen's phone may be a very outdated smartphone, but it was sturdy, so it worked no matter the circumstances. She hoped that was it. ”Here you go… What do you need it for?”

“Hopefully nothing,” said Vicky through gritted teeth as she snatched the phone, her stomach starting to twist itself into knots.

Immediately, she reopened the messaging app. There was shockingly little to look at, the inbox so desolate that Vicky didn’t even have to scroll, although perhaps it shouldn’t be so surprising at all. Knowing Tuyen’s aunt, that overbearing woman would probably scrub through her niece’s phone looking for any excuse she could find to critique the poor girl. Tuyen probably just deleted her messages to avoid getting into trouble, rationalized Vicky, ignoring the fact that one of the only active threads in the inbox was from Vicky with the blurb beneath it reading: bitch cmon lets get wasted.

Vicky sighed. The group chat she was looking for wasn’t here and in a way it was kind of a relief, as it allowed her to delude her suspicions. She was about to hand the phone back to Tuyen when she paused. Tuyen was in the group chat, but she never responded to the chat, so anytime their group was doing something Vicky always had to send a separate message. She pulled up the tab for muted conversations and there it was sitting above a vile message from John Miller sent the night of the party: the group chat containing all the girls that sat at their lunch table, the last message sent under an hour ago.

So she had been right. They had kicked her out, but they had forgotten about Tuyen.

“Fucking bitches,” growled Vicky under her breath as she opened the chat. Vicky jumped up to her feet and began pacing the room as she scrolled through the log, finding the night of the warehouse party. Her face began to turn a shade of red as she read through the new messages, the topic shifting from how crazy it was that an earthquake hit Cornell (or perhaps it had been a gas leak, or both, the girls weren’t sure) to a nasty rumor Gwen had heard from Natasha about Vicky and Chef.

Everything then degraded from there. It went from how much of a bitch Vicky was (i never liked her anyway), to how Vicky was responsible for getting Chef killed, to how Vicky actually killed Chef by using him as a human and pulling him in front of a high tension steel wire as it had snapped to protect herself. It became absurd, declaring that Vicky immediately made a move on Tyler after Chef had died (as if he would date someone like her), that she had snuck off in the woods with him, that someone had seen her coming out of the woods with two guys (omg what a skank!) that she must’ve been fooling around with.

Funnily enough, they had nothing bad to say about Tyler: Boys will be boys.

Vicky stopped pacing, a look of horror fixed on her face as she continued scrolling, not wanting to read more but unable to look away:

You just know she’s gonna make Chef’s funeral all about her.

It sucks that she survived

ugh i no i absolutely dread seeing her at school i can’t believe they’re opening it back up

Should I send her screenshots of this chat? Maybe she’ll fix that problem for us!

oh my god that’s horrible lol

I meant she wouldn’t come to school gawd not that

Wait do you think she actually would?[/color]

[code]I HOPE SO


OMG GWEN STOP!! LMAO!!!

Vicky sniffed, wiped her eyes, and then wordlessly handed Tuyen her phone back with a hollow smile. The screen was still open to the group chat. She had her fill. She collapsed into Tuyen’s aunt’s chair, hands on her forehead, her eyes on her shoes as she tried to remember how to breathe.

Tuyen's eyes widened as she saw the messages on her screen. She quickly scrolled up to read the rest of the messages, eyes widening further. She felt sick. Vicky didn't deserve any of those things said about her. She was a good person, good enough to still be friends with someone like Tuyen. She definitely didn't like Tyler- she'd been so upset after breaking up with Chef too, though Tuyen was fuzzy on the exact details. This wasn't fair.

Her fingers hovered over her phone keyboard, trembling slightly. Just the thought of sending a message made it difficult to breathe. She knew these girls weren't her friends- they only put up with her thanks to Vicky, which Tuyen had always been grateful for, no matter how uncomfortable being around them made her feel. She didn't need anything more, didn't even deserve it. They probably didn't even remember she existed… It would be easier to be a coward and not say anything at all.

It's not like that. Just sending that one message took a lot of effort on her part. Before she could send another, responses quickly came through.

Ew, who left Vicky's lapdog in?

soz I forgot about her

lol maybe SHE'LL fix the problem for us

There was a pause before Tuyen was kicked too.

”Vicky…” Tuyen dropped her phone, shuffling over to Vicky and crouching in front of her. She bit her lip, looking nervously at her. She wouldn't take the words to heart and do what they'd suggested, would she? No, no- not everyone felt like they didn't deserve to exist like Tuyen did. Vicky was normal. She wouldn't consider that. But of course she was upset. ”They don't know what they're talking about, they- They don't deserve a friend like you. They're talking like that because they're… jealous.”

She truly believed that everything they said was bullshit, but she didn't know how to comfort Vicky about it either. It didn't really matter if it was false because it was still horrible things they were saying about her. She wanted to hug her again, but she was worried how that'd be received- especially if Vicky knew the thoughts Tuyen sometimes had. No, best not to.

”I’ll always be your friend, no matter what. I know you're nothing like that.” She looked up at Vicky, managing to look like she truly believed what she was saying. She did, she just didn't think her friendship was worth much at all.

“It’s fine,” said Vicky with a sudden look of determination as her teeth stopped gnawing ineffectively at her acrylic nails. If she’d snapped out of her funk any faster it would’ve been accompanied by a sonic boom, but instead the only ringing was in her ears. She put her hand on Tuyen’s shoulders as if to show gratitude for her kind words only to use her for leverage as Vicky pushed herself up out of the chair. “You’re right, they’re just jealous. I don’t even care what they think about me anyway.”

She didn’t. She totally didn’t. She just couldn’t help but think that if Tuyen was supposed to be such a good friend then she should’ve been there for her in the warehouse because like, and it wasn’t Tuyen’s fault, but if Tuyen had been there to help Vicky escape instead of Tyler then those bitches wouldn’t have seen them together. Again, it wasn’t Tuyen’s fault, but really, the more Vicky thought about it, if Tuyen had been there instead of Tyler then nobody would’ve believed those stupid fucking rumors Lexi’s dumb friend had spread.

And honestly, it wasn’t Tuyen’s fault, it wasn’t, it wasn’t, it wasn’t right to blame her, but really, somebody had to be a fault here, and it wasn’t Vicky, and it wasn’t Tyler, because at very least Tyler had been there for Vicky when she needed someone, and he didn’t even claim to be her friend, in fact he fucking hated her, just like everybody else apparently hated her, so how come if Tuyen was supposedly such a good friend then:

“WHY—”HADN’T TUYEN FUCKING BEEN THERE? “—would you look at the time?”

Vicky looked at an imaginary watch on her wrist then grabbed her phone and her bat.

“I promised Diane I’d help her with dinner. This was a lot of fun. It sucks that you can’t do magic. But really, don’t worry about me. I’m totally fine. Oh, but Tuyen, you really shouldn’t lie,” said Vicky hypocritically, having just told a bunch of lies herself.

The bat vanished from Vicky’s hand. A second later, Tuyen would feel it poke her chest again. Vicky gave her a proud, wicked smile.

“We both know that I’m as big of a bitch as they say I am. And now that I have magic? Oh, I can be so.” Poke. “Much.” Poke. “Worse.”
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